Monsters
by Jacksaw
Summary: Nico is sure he is a monster. Admit it, he is sorta right. He also thought he was the only one. But this time, he's wrong. (Second chapter is up!)
1. Percy, Leo, Nico, Hazel

**I just found that I don't have a single Percy Jackson fic on this account, and that will just not do. Warning: I am not satisfied with this things. But after hours and hours of rereading, I gave up, since it obviously wasn't getting better. **

**And I may or may not have been listening to _Demons _and _Monster_ while I wrote this thing. :)**

***Disclaimer: Read this thing and it would be blindly obvious. **

* * *

His hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine that they had almost killed a goddess, and on her own poison too.

Percy Jackson stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was in its typical bed-head, but his eyes were haunted, ringed with sleepless nights. You have to admit, going through Tatarus was pretty much an endless supply of nightmare fuel. He rubbed them again. He knew better than trying to go back to sleep. It would make it worse. It seemed that every time he tried to sleep the nightmares got worse.

Annabeth didn't seem to have that problem. Then again, she didn't almost kill an immortal.

_Argh! Did all his problems circulate around that stupid goddess of grief?_

_No._ Another voice answered back. _It circulates around you being a monster._

Percy groaned. _I'm not a monster._

_You are._

_I'm not._

_You are._

_I'm-_

_Look, can you honestly say feeling only blind fury when you kill―_

Try_ to kill._

_Not much better. When you_ try _to__ kill someone, doesn't make you a monster? Isn't that what you define monsters by?_

Percy froze, then realized he had nothing to say against that.

* * *

His hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine that they had summoned the dead, enough to fight the army of Kronos.

Nico di Angelo stared at himself in the mirror. His own eyes spooked him. He had to admit that Leo was right to be scared of him. The dude was _that_ easy to read.

He allowed himself a small smile. In the mirror, it looked like the grin of a skull.

But no matter how scared Leo was, it still wasn't enough.

The difference was that Leo still saw him as human. Nico's experiences in Tatarus had changed that.

He could still remember running. The roars. Fire. When they had caught him. Monsters, raised before their time. Running again. Snake demons. The cold scales under his fingers. The flames that erupted around them. Running again.

Nico stared at his hands again. No, he wasn't human.

He was a monster.

* * *

His hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine they had killed his mother.

Leo stared at himself in the mirror. His curls stuck out in a way enough to rival Percy's. He had to admit he wasn't scary or powerful looking, not like Percy or Jason or Nico. Definately not Nico. That dude was creepy.

But as creepy as Nico was, he had never killed anyone. At least, as far as Leo knew.

He could still remember the smoke curling from his fingers, out of his control, the roof of the warehouse collapsing inward, the walls blackening and next morning, before he was too far away, the ashes of the warehouse and his mother piled in the burnt skeleton of the place.

He summoned a wisp of fire and watched it dance in his palm. He had been afraid to use his power for so many years. He told people it was because it brought back bad memories, when actually he was just scared. Scared he would hurt more people, scared there would be a remake of that night at the warehouse.

But mostly, he was scared he would wake up one day with everything around him burnt and dead, and find the monster inside had awoke.

* * *

Her hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine they had caused the destruction of the world.

Hazel stared at herself in the mirror. She looked only thirteen, but she should technically be in her nineties. She didn't look anything like a daughter of Hades, or Pluto, or whatever. Her skin was chocolate brown, so different from the others. She supposed that made her look less mmenacing and more... approachable. She should have taken it as a sign that she should be different from the others. Which meant not bringing bad luck whereever she went.

But instead she was worst then all of them. Combined. She didn't just bringing bad luck to family, friends, neighbours, classmates. Oh no. Hazel Levesque managed to bring bad luck to the entire world.

Sure, it was her mom who had forced her to raise the giant, but it had been her powers. She could have outright refused. She could have been defiant from the very start, run away with Sammy.

But instead, she chose to stay, and hope that the Voice/Gaea would let her mom go once her work was done. She was the only one who could have saved the world before the end was even a dream in anyone's head, and she blotched it. She chose to believe in a naive hope, and now the entire world was going to pay.

So no. She wasn't like the other children of the Underworld. She wasn't just a bad luck charm, endangering all the people near her.

No. She was a monster.

* * *

**Okay, I know it would be better if I did everyone in the series, but this is all I can think of right now. So, if you wanted to see a specific one, leave the character's name in reviews, and I'll do my best to make it happen. Not promising anything though. If no one puts anything in the reviews, then this story will become a oneshot. **

**This wasn't my best work, but hoped you enjoyed the ride, and thank you for your time. (God, I sound like a job interview.)**


	2. Piper, Reyna, Annabeth

**I'M BACK! **

**Sorry it took me so long. This fic isn't hard, but I didn't see all the favs. Sor-we! **

**Shout out to Unknown010, my beta for this fic (starting now, so don't blame her for the last one!)**

* * *

Her hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine they belonged to someone like her.

Piper McLean stared at her in the mirror. As a daughter of Aphrodite, beauty was practically her birthright. But what was the point of beauty, if it was nothing but a mask?

She dropped her hands and sighed. She didn't deserve her looks. Any of them. Because under her pretty exterior, she was a monster.

Yeah. That's right. A monster. Because what kind of sick person would rather save her father, one solitary person, one individual, and give up the whole world? What twisted philosophy allowed her to endanger seven billion people, just for a naive hope that Enceladus would keep his promise (fat chance) and spare her father after she was dead? What crooked reasoning meant it was okay to drag the Hunters straight into their quest, making them risk their lives, while knowing they stood no chance against the giant king?

_Her_ twisted philosophy, _her_ crooked reasoning. _She _was sick.

She faced herself in the mirror again. She didn't deserve her heredity as a daughter of Aphrodite. She had no place in the seven, among Jason, Leo, Percy, Annabeth, Hazel, and Frank, or even Nico. She had no right to be on this ship, questing to save a world she had no qualms against tossing into a proverbial trash can.

Heck, she barely had the right to call herself a _monster_.

But lucky her, right?

* * *

Her hands looked so normal. It was hard to imagine they had killed so many.

Reyna stared at herself in the mirror. It was rare when she had time to herself, and even rarer that she decided to spend it staring at a mirror.

Because, why would she want to look at the monstrosity she had become?

Not on the outside, though. She still looked as prim and neat as she had always been, though admittedly more weary and tired. These days, she always looked tired. Back on Circe's island, it had been so different. _Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano_ never had to worry about her camp, her people, or upholding the legacy of Rome. _Reyna of Camp Jupiter _did._ Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano_ never had to deal with Octavian, or worry about Gaea, or plan battles. _Reyna _did_. _

Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano didn't have blood on her hands. Reyna did.

It was Reyna that had led the troops into battle, that had slaughtered so many enemies. It was Reyna that killed people, enemy and sometimes her own comrages.

It was Reyna that was the monster.

Some people called her job duty. (Hello, Octavian!) Some people called it self-defense. Some people called it honor. Some people called it upholding legacy.

Some people called it mass murder in cold blood.

That was what war was, wasn't it? Plan, charge, kill, repeat. And guess who was at the helm of this mass macrasse? Reyna. Who hadhad earned her way up the ranks by stepping over dead bodies? Reyna. Who was a monster? Reyna.

Reyna. Not Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano.

Sometimes, when she lay awake at night, she missed Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano. She missed the girl before the monster

* * *

Her hands looked so normal. Except for the fact they were drenched in proverbial blood.

Annabeth stared at the mirror. She'd always wondered how the whole bags under eyes thing worked. How could she wake up in cold sweat, and stay up for nights on end, but still look refreshed in the morning?

Still, she supposed it was for the best. She couldnt let any of them know about the nightmares. She was the daughter of Athena. She was a leader. She was born to retrieve the Athena Parthenon.

She wasn't supposed to be responsible for the deaths of so many people.

_Murders, yes. Like you! His blood is on your hands! There should have been another way. You murdered him! Jump in and share his punishment!_

**_No. He chose his own path. Luke was doomed to die the minute he betrayed Camp Half-Blood. His death isn't my fault. It can't be._**

_It was your fault! It was his blood on your dagger. His death in your hands. You are no better than the rest of us._

_**It isn't my fault. It was my duty to give him my knife. It saved millions of others.**_

_What about the deaths of all those others? Everyone who died in the Battle of Manhattan? Were they traitors? Did they have to die?_

_**No. They were innocent. Loyal to the very end. But their deaths weren't my fault.**_

_You could have killed Luke before. When he came to your house, he bore no weapons. Why didn't you kill him, since his death did not matter? Why did you have to kill so many, and injure more? _

**_How could I have killed him?_**

_You did, in the end. Why did you wait so long, Annabeth? Wait so long, and destroy so many more lives?_

**_I―I― _**

_What happened to the life Beckendorf and Silena could have had?_

**_No, no. I didn't know― _**

_Not to mention all those who died prior to the Battle. And the Hunters who perished on the quest to find and save you. A__ll those who died in the Battles, the people you've never even _tried_ to talk to, all those years at camp._

**_No, they were saving-_**

_Bianca di Angelo. Such a bright future ahead of her. Her life was cut short because of you._

**_No― _**

_Zoe Nightshade. Her blood drenches your hands, and still she has to watch over you from there stars. _

**_But― _**

_Castor. Poor kid, you didn't even know his last name. Left his entire cabin, and his twin in particular, mourning._

**_Ho― _**

_Lee Fletcher. Daedalus. Michael Yew. Charles Beckendorf. Silena Beauregard. Leneus. Ethan Nakamura. _

**_B― _**

_Luke Castellan._

_All these people. Dead because of your decisions. Because you were selfish. Because of who you are. _What_ you are. You're a― _

**_No, no, no. _**She didn't need a voice in her head, or the voices in Acheron to tell her, what she was.

A monster.

**_No. Please._**

_Yes, Annabeth. A monster._

**_No! You're the river of Wailing. You're_ supposed _to make me feel guilty.__  
_**

_ If that's what you think, Annabeth, you are a fool. I am nothing but a voice in your head. I am _ you.

_And sadly, because I am you, I am also a monster. Because you are a monster. _


End file.
